I’m a fast walker by nature. Always have been. It takes conscious effort on my part to keep my pace lazy and stroll down the sidewalk, slow and aimless, like I’ve got nowhere in particular to be. Whenever I got stuck behind some idiot drifting down the sidewalk without a care in the world, it made me want to slap them upside the head and scream at them to move. But today, I was that guy – meandering through Arroyo, trying to blend in as just another corpo drone out on a quick break.

The slow pace had its advantages. It gave me time to scope out the area without drawing attention to myself. Arroyo was a part of the city that was dominated by factories, office buildings, and the occasional alleyway that reeked of rust and piss. Everything in the place was corporate owned and crawling with security guards, and I absolutely hated it.

What added to my hatred was the fact that I had my face implant on. I’d grabbed the ID of some BD store clerk I’d met up in Kabuki, who’d wasted a good half-hour of my life giving me a rundown on why XBDs were vastly superior to joytoys. His claim that real women couldn’t compare to what BD studios were putting out stuck with me in all the wrong ways. Now, every time I wore his face, I had to be reminded of that bizarre conversation. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than strolling down the street as myself. This was my fifth day this week coming to this particular part of Arroyo, and I didn’t want anyone to be able to recognize me and pick me out of a police lineup in the future.

I let my eyes casually drift across the road to the reason I was here: the Cytech factory. Cytech was a mid-tier cyberware corp that specialized in implants. They weren’t the first name on people’s lips when it came time for them to chip in, and rumor had it that the company had hit a rough patch and was hemorrhaging money. But if the rumors were true, you couldn’t tell it by looking at their factory/office building. The parking lot was bustling – vans and heavy trucks rolling in and out of the loading docks like clockwork. And the place was packed with security. Guards patrolled the grounds, cameras were posted on every corner of the building, sweeping the street, the entrances, and the parking lots.

I slowly made my way down the street towards the row of food carts set up across from the factory. The vendors were there, hoping to capitalize on the lunch break crowd. It was a prime spot for the vendors as there were several factories in the neighborhood that all let people out for break at around the same time. In a couple minutes, the carts would be swarmed by corpo drones looking for something quick to eat before rushing back to their work stations, and the vendors would all make a boat load of eddies.

One of the street vendors spotted me from a distance and waved at me like I was his best customer. I took my time walking toward him, letting my eyes keep drifting over to the security posts by the factory gates, tracking the guards who were pacing the perimeter. I made mental notes of how many guards I could spot from the street, and where all the cameras were posted.

When I finally got to the food cart, I shot the vendor a half-smile. “Hey Enrico, what’s good today?”

“Same as always, choom,” Enrico grinned, already flipping a scop dog on the grill. “Best dogs in Night City. Five eddies, and you’ll be good till dinner.”

I flicked him ten eddies and told him, “One now, one after the lunch rush.”

Right on cue, the time in my HUD blinked noon, and like clockwork, the factory doors across the street burst open. Corpo drones flooded out like ants from a kicked hill, swarming the food carts to grab something to eat during their fifteen-minute lunch breaks. I’d seen it happen every day this week – like some miserable, well-oiled machine. Eat, smoke a quick cig, complain about the boss or the trains or any other standard topic, and go back to work. The joys of being a cog in the machine of Night City.

With my scop dog in hand, I leaned casually against a half-wall near Enrico’s cart, doing my best to look casual as I watched the crowd. There were a bunch of drones working for Cytech and they were a mix of blue and white collar. Their Arroyo HQ was a factory and office building, a place where they made and shipped the cyberware they were known for, and dealt with all the paperwork that seemed like the lifeblood of every corporation in Night City.

As I ate, I tried to get a read on the security at the factory. There was a lot more of them here than what was at the RCS warehouse where I’d pulled off my first real job. Sure, most of the guards didn’t seem like they could handle much more than loitering corpo drones, but there were enough guns on-site to make any direct approach messy. And then there were the cameras, always watching, tracking everything that happened on the street and feeding the footage back to a security room somewhere inside the factory.

The crowd slowly thickened and the thinned as they grabbed their food, wolfed it down, and shuffled back inside for another round of the corpo grind. I kept my eyes on the building, noting the flow of people, the security rotations, and the stacks of shipping crates by the loading docks. There were a couple vans parked nearby, being loaded up with crates of…something. But what really drew my attention was the trio of Kaukaz trucks parked outside the loading dock. Those beasts had been there every day this week, parked like they were waiting for something big. I guessed that Cytech owned all three trucks, and they used them to haul the serious orders that ripperdocs placed.

As I ate, my mind ran through all the obstacles I was facing. A heist here during the day? Probably not going to work. There were too many workers, too many guards, too many cameras. Maybe at night, after all the factory workers had clocked out, I could make a move. But even then, cameras and security would still be a problem. I’d need to jam the radios, hack into the security system, set up a solid distraction. Every time I scouted this factory, the job felt like it was getting bigger and more complicated.

I finished off my scop dog and wiped my hands on my pants as I straightened up. Enrico gave me a nod, passing me another dog as promised. I shot him a quick wave goodbye and slowly made my way back up the street, blending in with the foot traffic. My internal Agent buzzed and I checked my messages.

Anna: can you meet up? Skyline and Republic.

I sent Anna a ‘yes’ before making my way back towards my Kusanagi, parked a few blocks away. I didn’t want anyone to clock my bike, so I’d left it at a small homeless camp with a few people who knew Fred. I figured Anna was messaging me because she found a potential spot for a new base for The Pack. I’d put out word that we shouldn’t be seen doing business near Lizzie’s anymore. I didn’t want the Mox to try and clear the place out because they feared a rival gang coming in and causing trouble. That wouldn’t have been fair to the homeless who’d taken me in and helped me out at my lowest point. Everyone in the crew agreed and we’d all been looking for spots where we could set up a temporary HQ.

It was wild thinking about how far The Pack had come in such a short period of time. It felt like I’d just stumbled into this whole protection gang thing, and what had started as a way to keep the Scavs off our backs had exploded into something massive in just a few short weeks.

Anna had put on her recruiting hat and pulled together a bunch of ex-cops looking for work after getting dumped by the city. I didn’t have exact numbers, but I knew she had enough former badges to make us pretty formidable. Then there was John. His homeless network was expanding fast, reaching into corners of Night City that we’d have never touched on our own. And Albert was recruiting a bunch of ex-corpo security. That…gave me pause. It felt like his guys were kept somewhat apart from the rest of The Pack. It always felt like he was watching me and waiting for me to screw up and prove I couldn’t lead this group.

Which was something I worried about more and more. We were growing way too big to keep surviving off the small gigs and heists that we’d been pulling when it was just my small crew. We all knew it. We needed something big, something that would jumpstart The Pack into becoming more self-sufficient.

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John had been smart about building out the homeless network. Early on, he’d put out word that we were looking for underground casinos in Night City – ones that weren’t backed by any of the major gangs. No Tyger Claws. No Valentinos. We weren’t ready to tangle with the heavy hitters. Not yet at least.

Instead, we targeted the smaller, weaker crews who were running their own low-key gambling operations. And when we found one, either Anna’s badges or Albert’s ex-corpo mercs would move in and muscle them out. Sometimes the small gangs were kicked to the curb; other times they were offered a deal: work for us or get out. Mor often than not, the smaller gangs would just fold, and we’d take over their operations. And just like that, The Pack became the proud owners of a handful of underground casinos.

The Animals were proving useful…allies? Friends? Partners? I didn’t know how to label it, all I knew was that our work together was paying dividends. They’d been working closely with John and the rest of us, gradually rolling out the changes I’d pitched to Sasquatch. Their first big move? They slashed the cover charge for all their fights down to 20 eddies a head. It seemed like such a small change, but it brought in a flood of fresh faces. People who wouldn’t have thought twice about coming to an Animal fight before were now lining up at the door. And once they were inside, the Animals made sure they stayed. There were food and drinks on offer, some recreational drugs, and even XBD sellers tucked away in the corners. The fights transformed from raw, bloody brawls into a full-on entertainment experience. A one-stop shop for Night City thrill-seekers.

Then there was Fred. I remember the first full day he guided me around Night City, he’d been ref’ing a game of stickball. Normally, the sport was just a way for small Night City crews to hash out their differences without escalating into full-blown turf wars. But Fred had always thought it should be more than that. Soon enough, The Pack and the Animals were handling security, organizing matches, booking venues, and pulling in crowds. What once had been a way for gangs to settle scores had turned into a growing spectacle. Teams formed, representing different blocks or neighborhoods, kitted out in matching colors and uniforms. People were rushing to the games to watch, place bets, get involved. Stickball was on the verge of becoming a legit sport in the city, and we were at the center of it.

But the biggest surprise over the past two or three weeks had been from Sasquatch. She came up with an idea that became an instant hit. At the fights, she threw down an open challenge to any corpo drone in the audience: get two of your buddies, step into the ring, and face off against one of her Animals in a three-on-one fight. The corpos loved it. It was the perfect outlet for them to blow off steam and get a taste of danger without the real risks of a fight to the death. The worst that came out of it were a few broken bones, but that was part of the thrill. Watching a trio of suits get tossed around by one of Sasquatch’s beasts had quickly become the main event to the Animal fights. The crowd ate it up, and the corpos couldn’t get enough.

As my thoughts drifted I mounted my Kusanagi and kicked it into gear, the engine’s low growl vibrating beneath me as I left Arroyo, weaving through traffic like it was second nature. I pulled up my contacts on my internal Agent and shot Sandra a message, asking her to meet me at Skyline and Republic. I needed her input on a couple things.

Sandra: can it wait? We’re still looking through all the data we got from Kiroshi, trying to decide what to do with all of it. There’s so much here.

Noah: it’s about another job. Got a couple questions, and there might be another data fortress involved.

Sandra: then I’m obviously on my way.

By the time I rolled up to Skyline and Republic, Anna and Deng were already there, waiting near a Doc Ryder franchise ripperdoc shop. The neon sign overhead flickered in red and white, casting a soft, eerie glow across the sidewalk. I parked my Kusanagi next to a “Night City Cleaners” sign, where a group of workers in hi-vis vests were fixing up a couple street sweeper vans. The sight of them made me smirk a little – Night City, a cesspool of grime, and people still bothered trying to clean it up.

I slid off my bike and strolled over to Anna and Deng, giving them a nod in greeting. “Sorry to keep you waiting. What’s up?”

Deng cracked a grin once he saw me. “No problem, kid. John said he might’ve found a spot that could work as a temporary HQ for us. Anna and I were just scouting it out.”

That piqued my interest. “Oh yea? What’s the deal?”

Without another word, they guided me towards an old apartment building half a block away. I fell in step behind them, trying to figure out where we were going. Deng gestured toward the place as we got closer. “It’s another homeless hideout, kinda like the alcove. Same vibe, but a little different.”

The apartment building he led us to towered over an alley that wrapped around the back of the building. As we rounded the corner, I could see storage units that lined the walls – probably rentable spaces, perfect for stashing gear or supplies or whatever else we could get our hands on. The area felt secluded, almost hidden, but still exposed in some spots. It had potential, but it wasn’t exactly a fortress.

“It’s not perfect,” Deng admitted as I looked around. “But the buildings over here are close enough together to form a kind of roof. With enough manpower, which we got, we could easily secure the area. Turn the whole place into a proper hangout.”

The alley eventually split off behind the apartment and opened up into a larger, semi-roofed area with a few garages scattered along the walls. I could see the appeal of it. Drag a couple couches and some tables in here, maybe have a radio playing some music, and the place could easily mimic the vibe of the alcove. It wasn’t bad. But there were a few things that worried me. Built into the ground floor of the apartment building we’d passed by were a few mom-and-pop type stores. Most were closed now, probably because the sun was still up and their usual clientele were still asleep. But their presence made me hesitate.

Before I could bring it up, Anna chimed in. “I already talked with some of the shopkeepers around here. They say a few small-time gangs stick their heads out every once in awhile, but they’re not too serious. The owners would all be fine with us moving in as long as we don’t bring trouble – and maybe help out if something goes down.”

“Protection, huh?” I said, mulling it over. Going to a gang for protection was a common scheme for vendors and store owners in Night City. It was the price of doing business in the city.

“They just want to know we’ll show up if they need us,” Anna added. “No big gangs run this area, so it’d be easy to manage.”

“Sounds like a good arrangement for us,” I replied, thinking about the possibilities.

Anna leaned in a little. “It gave me an idea. Why stop here? We could expand to all the night markets in the city. Offer protection to the vendors, make sure no one messes with them, and we take a cut. There are bound to be a few that aren’t operating in any of the major gang territories. My people are used to doing patrols; now, they just patrol for the markets instead of the city. Plus, we’ll actually show up when the vendors need us.”

“So, we’re basically the cops now?” I smirked as I thought it over. “Alright, but we gotta be smart about it. Find out which night markets don’t have protection from the big gangs. We can’t be setting up on another gang’s turf.”

She nodded, but I wasn’t done. “And we might not even need to charge for protection.”

That got me a raised eyebrow.

“We might use the night markets to move our own goods. The vendors sell for us, they keep their share, and we make sure nobody hassles them. It’s a win-win. Protection in exchange for them helping move product we…accumulate.”

We continued walking back through the alley towards the front of the apartment building. Deng wasn’t wrong – this place had serious potential. If we blocked off the entrances, pile the area with couches and tables, get some security to warn off any small-time gangs trying to poke around, we’d have a solid base of operations. It was easy to imagine The Pack setting up shop here.

As we reached the front of the apartment building, I spotted Sandra leaning against a light pole by the curb, scanning the area for me. When her eyes found mine, she waved me over.

“Sandra,” I called out. “Got a couple questions for you.”

“You’ve always got questions. You said this was for a potential gig? And what’s this about a new data fortress?”

I grinned and glanced back at Anna and Deng, both of whom had perked up at the mention of a new gig. “So, let’s say, hypothetically, I wanted to stop an entire block from making phone calls. No outgoing or incoming signals. How would someone go about doing that?”

Sandra tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “Depends on the range. You’d need something capable of blocking the signals – something portable if you’re moving, or stationery if you’re setting up shop. Or, you could get messy with it and fry the telecoms directly, but that’s a bit too permanent, and you’d definitely raise some alarms.”

Anna jumped in at that. “The NCPD has mobile jammers in their vans. They use them during raids to prevent anyone inside a building from calling for backup. They park the van, flip the switch, and boom, no signals in or out. The van’s basically a mobile command center. Problem is that jammers like that are highly illegal to own in the city.”

Deng chuckled, and I couldn’t help but grin along with him. “Illegal? That’s not gonna stop him,” Deng said, nudging me with a smirk. “He can just call up his new best friend, the queen of the Afterlife and say, ‘I need a few jammers,’ and she’d bend over backwards to help out her newest choom.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing off his teasing, and turned back to Anna. “Okay, apart from the jammers, can you get your hands on a few NCPD vans? I’d take mobile command centers, or even prison vans. Something that can hold a bunch of people.”

“Cop vans?” asked Anna. “You trying to hit something high-profile? I mean…I can try. Those things aren’t exactly waiting around to be snatched. Are you sure you need the real thing?”

I shrugged, curious to see where she was going with this.

“Most people can’t tell the difference between a real NCPD van and a regular van with the world ‘POLICE’ stenciled on the side. Slap on some decals, throw in a fake badge or two, and you’re golden.”

“Could work,” I mumbled. “Alright…let’s say we mock up some fake vans. The jammers though, those we’ll need legit. Can you get your hands on any of those?”

Both Anna and Sandra shook their heads and Sandra stepped in. “I’ve got some tech contacts, but I doubt they’ve got what you need. You’ll probably be better off sourcing it from a fixer. What they have might not be NCPD-grade, but it’ll do the job. Just don’t expect it to be cheap.”

Anna crossed her arms, shifting her weight. “You know, the real question is…what’s the play here? Blocking signals, fake cop vans. All this sounds like you got a gig in mind that might be…a lot of heat. We gotta be worried that if we expand too fast, the other gangs in the city will start looking at us like we’re a threat.”

“That’s exactly why we need to expand fast,” I countered. “We need to carve out a piece of Night City for ourselves before anyone challenges us.”